


Constellations On Your Skin

by LucentPetrichor



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, and stars, oh and freckles, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucentPetrichor/pseuds/LucentPetrichor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius has freckles and Courfeyrac has a lovehate relationship with stars (occupational hazard of working at an observatory).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations On Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Caaaaaaaaaan you feeeeeeeeeeeel the looooooooooove toniiiiiiiiight  
> -ahem-
> 
> They totally had a cutesy thing going before Cosette happened.

The night is clear and cold and cloudless, and Courfeyrac smiles small and secret as he walks home from the observatory. As fascinating as it is to work there, he’s not always sure whether it’s worth the late nights looking after physics and astronomy students, and the odd smushy couple messily making out against a telescope.

-

Marius is curled up under a blanket on the sofa, head resting on an arm and half asleep, eyelids fluttering lightly. He’s tall enough that, when curled up like this, he takes up most of the sofa. When Courfeyrac unlocks the door and lets himself into the apartment, his eyes open fully at the sound of the loud creak and he pushes himself upright,

“Good night?”

Courfeyrac toes off his shoes but doesn’t bother removing his coat as he drapes himself over the sofa, staring upside down at the TV opposite the sofa with a non committal whine, and long legs hanging off the back of the sofa. He turns over onto his stomach, now in a contortionist sort of upside down V shape so he can more easily turn his head to face Marius,

“Boring.”

“You said that last time.”

“And it’s still true. What’re you watching?”

Marius looks down, the many freckles on his neck slowly disappearing into a light pink flush that creeps up his skin, “Was about to start Brave.”

“Brilliant! Wait, don’t start it yet. I’ll make popcorn, I haven’t seen the whole thing yet.”

The blush grows deeper but Marius’ face is transformed in a bright grin. Courfeyrac attempts to lever himself up and off the back of the sofa and fails miserably. Giving up on that method of standing upright, he slithers forward and off and collapses in a heap on the floor. All the while, Marius stares and wonders whether Courfeyrac was made out of rubber. He’s fairly sure he’s not because he’s had to rush Courfeyrac to ER on two occasions: once because Courfeyrac fell off a roof and cracked his ankle, and the other time was when a half full can of light blue paint took a tumble off a shelf and onto his face, almost breaking his nose. Courfeyrac was more concerned about how long it was going to take to wash the paint out of his hair but Marius was pretty sure he was a little concussed at the time as upon being discharged from ER, he’d given Marius a rather sweet kiss that left him feeling like the can of paint had landed on his head instead of Courfeyrac’s.

“I return bearing popcorn!” Marius breaks out of his reverie to see Courfeyrac damp, curled and in pyjama bottoms worn low on his hips, “Don’t worry, nothing caught fire. I just shoved the readymade stuff in the microwave and had a quick shower. Budge over.” He drops down close to Marius and offers the bowl of popcorn to him and then curls into the blanket that Marius opens.

“Oh my god, you’re _freezing_!” Marius inhales sharply, and flinches away from cold hands. Courfeyrac cackles before poking his ribs. Marius long since gave up being shy of Courfeyrac’s near constant tactility, whether it was a slight brush of fingers to the inside wrist or full body hugs that knocked you back a couple of paces or a lanky arm slung over shoulders.

“So put a shirt on.”

Marius scowls and sticks his tongue out at Courfeyrac, “You put a shirt on.”

“And deny you the glorious view that is my torso?”

Marius’ blush, just starting to retreat, returns to attack with reinforcements and Courfeyrac watches with amusement as the neck freckles are swallowed up in colour again. He snickers and Marius steals popcorn in retaliation before finally hitting ‘play’ on the remote control.

-

_La Luna_ lights up the screen and the pair share a shiver of glee because new Pixar shorts are made of _magic._ When the trio from the short have begun sweeping stars off the moon’s surface, Courfeyrac raises his head from where it had lolled on Marius’ shoulder to crane his neck and gaze out the large window beyond the sofa. With the lights off, and the night clear and dark for once he can see a sliver of the real moon, its bottom curve dipping just below the top of the window frame and painting a short section of the floor in soft glowing light. He shifts so his chin rests on Marius’ shoulder. It’s warm, they’re tangled together just enough to be comfortable, and Marius can feel Courfeyrac as he smiles against his neck. The short ends, of course, on a charming note and the Disney castle appears onscreen; Courfeyrac can’t resist humming along to the famous refrain and Marius swats him away because his chin is still resting on his shoulder and humming lips tickle. The blanket wrapped around them both slips off Courfeyrac’s shoulder as he straightens, stands and stretches before padding over to the window and looking out.

Marius looks over, as the titles start rolling to high piping music, at Courfeyrac’s silhouette where his shoulders are drawn up as he rests his torso on braced arms on the windowsill. After a moment more of hesitation, he pauses the movie, just as the titles are ending, and drags himself over to where Courfeyrac is looking up at the sky. Light pollution is being kind tonight and it’s easy to pick out uneven pinpricks of brightness. Marius pauses for a moment just behind the slightly shorter boy, then steps forward to enclose him in a blankety hug. Courfeyrac straightens up in slight surprise and moves his hands to grasp blanketed arms; this is, after all, the first time Marius has initiated a hug or any real form of contact.

“You can see Orion’s Belt from here,” he offers, taking one hand off Marius’ arm and pointing vaguely at the bright line of three stars above them.

“And if you look up,” he points more, extending his arm out of the window, “and a bit to the right, that’s Betelgeuse.”

Courfeyrac looks over his shoulder to see Marius following the line of his arm, searching for Betelgeuse. The darkness makes things hazy but he can still see freckles standing out stark against pale shoulder skin that the blanket isn’t hiding. He mentally draws a star map from one cluster of freckles and pretends that for one night he can chart the universe in this one person, this shy boy.

He clears his throat quietly and turns his face back to the window, “And if you look a little bit further up and to the right, see those two bright stars close to each other?”

Marius nods slightly and Courfeyrac feels it against his shoulder.

“Castor and Pollux.” He doesn’t mention the tiny little star that he can just about see in the middle of the constellation, joining Gemini, the twins, with a tenuous link. It smacks too close to home to voice; the fragility of the closeness of this night reflected in the stars.

The air feels heavy with something bigger than they are and Courfeyrac can feel the beat of Marius’ heart almost in tandem with his own. He falls for people easily, does Courfeyrac, and this boy with nebulae running down his spine and ghosts in his past had caught him in orbit.

So when Courfeyrac turns to hug Marius properly before flopping back on the sofa, he’s delighted when Marius doesn’t let him go without pressing a kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and it’s shy, like the boy who gives it. But it does enough to leave stars colliding in Courfeyrac’s chest and trails of sparks where Marius’ fingers trace his back.

Marius coughs lightly, the familiar pink suffusing him again, “Um. Brave.” and gestures with a still blanket draped arm to the sofa.

Courfeyrac grins back, takes a running leap at the sofa and grabs the remote to hit ‘play’. He looks over his shoulder and Marius follows to slide into place beside him. After a few moments fidgeting with blankets, they settle in something possibly akin to the Gordian Knot. Occasionally, at inopportune moments, Courfeyrac drops happy kisses on various exposed freckles, but aside from that, the movie continues undisturbed.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up 2 pages longer than I wanted it. Eternal thanks to Abi who I spent a while shrieking at while writing this.
> 
> Comments and things make me happy <3


End file.
